Trapped
by SerenitySparrow
Summary: In an attempt to lure Max DeCosta out of hiding, Kruger and his henchmen abduct his younger sister and keep her locked up until such time as her brother gives up the information he's stolen.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: My first Elysium story. I must admit, I am a bit obsessed with the character of Kruger and the actor who portrays him has fast become one of - if not my absolute - favorite actors. I've tried to keep him in character as best as I can, but as I didn't create the character, there will be some OOCness, especially towards the end of the story. **

**Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with the movie Elysium or its creators or actors in any way. I write this purely for the fun of it.**

**Summary: Kruger abducts Max DeCosta's little sister to lure him out into the open where he can retrieve the stolen Elysium information. In the process, his sister manages to crack his armor little by little. Does he manage to wedge himself into her heart and soul as well? Or will she simply loathe him more and more as the days pass?**

**Warnings: Throughout the story, there will be graphic and not-so-graphic violence and killings and some - possible- love scenes thrown into the mix as well as lewd language and molestation. If you are not into any of that, I suggest you not read the story. **

**AN 2: The storyline arc is basically the same as in the movie, but I've lengthened the amount of time Max has to live to fit in with the plot of the story and other details will be altered as well. Whatever I get wrong or spell wrong or say wrong, I sincerely apologize ahead of time.**

* * *

The dry air that littered the world around her surrounded Sharra DeCosta and she gagged on the heavy dust that flew into her mouth when she coughed. She hated this place! So dusty, so rundown, when once upon a time it had been a thriving metropolis - or so all the history books had claimed.

Throwing the hood of her cloak over her head, Sharra stepped beneath the shade of the nearest low-hanging roof to stare longingly up into the clear blue sky. She could just barely make out the circular ring of the Elysium station out there in space between the earth and the moon. Her heart ached to be up there - safe environment, clean air, disease-free - and away from here. Away from this absolute hell that she was shamed to call home. She remembered in vivid detail how she, her older brother Max, and Frey used to talk about their dreams of getting up there one day. Of saving all their money and buying their own house or condo for just the three of them.

That was way back when they'd all been living in the orphanage - her and Max's parents had just been killed in an industrial work accident two days before they'd arrived at the orphanage. They'd been permitted to go to the funeral, but then Sharra and Max had been hustled quickly off to the nearest orphanage the social workers could find. Frey had been living in that orphanage nearly her entire life - her own family having turned their backs on her once her mother had passed away from terminal lung cancer. The three of them had bonded immediately and clung to each other for the entirety of their time there.

Sharra sighed as she pressed her hand to her chest, trying to ignore the pain inside, the longing. And not just for a better life up on Elysium. No. She was also longing for love and the powerful embrace of a man's strong arms around her. Aside from her brother, she'd been alone all her life and she was dreadfully lonely.

Sighing, Sharra pulled her cloak over her head and scooted back out into the bright burning daylight - back to the ramshackle house she shared with Max.

Sharra sighed as she stepped into the darkened house twenty minutes later. She flipped on the lightswitch and nearly screamed at the sight of her brother leaning against the wall near the bathroom, chest heaving as he struggled to suck in sobs. Metal was embedded deep into the nerves of both his arms and some kind of black metal computer had been drilled into the back of his skull.

Dropping her cloak and small black bag to the floor, Sharra rushed to his side. "Max! Max, what the hell - what happened to you?! What is all this?"

"Ju-Julio," Max rasped, throwing his arm around Sharra's shoulders as she pulled him towards the single bed in the house - the bed they alternated sleeping on every other night.

"What about Julio?" Her eyes fell on the right side of his stomach and for the first time she noticed the wound, the blood soaking into his shirt and causing the material to cling to his skin. "Jesus, Max, what the hell happened to you?!"

"Julio's dead," Max rasped. It physically pained him to even speak. His left arm was wrapped tightly around his own midsection as he rocked back and forth. "I shouldn't even fucking be here. They're looking for me and I don't want them to find you -"

"Whoa, Max, slow down. Who's after you? And - Julio's dead? Are you sure?"

Max glared through the sheen of tears that filled his eyes. "I fucking saw that bastard slam his fucking sword through Julio's chest, Sharra!"

Sharra ignored the painful flutter in her chest at the loss of a good friend. Right now she needed to tend to Max. Max was the priority right now.

"I'm so sorry, Max." She tenderly pressed a kiss to the top of his head. "I'm going to call up Frey so she can work on your stomach and then we're going to have a very long talk."

Sharra started for the phone in the kitchen, but Max reached out to wrap a hand around her slender wrist. "Don't," he whispered, voice gruff. "I'm already endangering **you** just by being here. I'm not going to do the same to her."

"Well, what about the hospital?"

"Again, too dangerous."

"Your wound needs attention, Max."

"It doesn't even matter. Unless I can get up to Elysium for a medbay, I'm going to be dead in a month or so anyway."

Sharra's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "WHAT?! Max, what the fuck is going on?! You're not telling me a damn thing! Why are you going to die? What happened in the last couple of days that I've been gone?"

Max closed his eyes and released a deep breath. "I was exposed to radiation at work a couple of days ago. Enough to be fatal."

Sharra collapsed onto the bed, eyes still wide and skin ashen.

"I went to Spyder to see about getting a ride up to Elysium. The radiation poisoning - as you know - can be healed by a medbay."

"Okay." Sharra released a deep breath of her own. "But I'm sensing that something went wrong."

Max nodded. "Yeah. A lot of things went wrong.

"Spyder agreed to give me a ride to Elysium if I did one job for him. The job - at the time - sounded simple enough - a simple extraction mission - and I don't want to fucking die, so I accepted the offer."

"What, exactly, was the offer?"

"All I needed - all I needed to do was get some information out of this guy Carlyle and get it back to Spyder. I got the information, but it came with a heavy price. Some military goons - looked like mercenaries to me - showed up and everyone but me and this one other of Spyder's men were killed. The guy who killed Julio - he's the same guy who stabbed me. Almost cut my fucking head off and would have if Julio hadn't saved my life. He's maniacal, that one. And he's still after me for the information that I'm now carrying around in my fucking head."

Max hung his head between his legs to keep himself from hyperventilating.

Then he abruptly jerked his head up to face her. "You have to get out of here. They'll use you to get to me and I won't be much help to you in the condition I'm in."

"Leave you alone? I don't think so, Max. Besides, where am I supposed to go? There's no place I could stay besides at Frey's and I'm not going to intrude on her and Matilda that way. I'm staying here."

Max choked on an affectionate laugh. "You're so stubborn."

"It runs in the family, bro."

Sharra sighed and rubbed at her face to get her own tears under control. "Well, Frey taught me how to stitch a little, so I'll go grab the first aid kit. We've got to get that wound taken care of."

Max nodded and watched her as she moved smoothly through the house. He remained in his spot as she sat back down next to him, remaining still as stone as she cleaned, disinfected, and bandaged the knife slice in his abdomen.

"I love you, Sharra," Max muttered, tone serious as he stared at the top of his sister's head.

She looked up and instantly frowned. "Don't fucking talk like that, Max. You're not going to die. We'll get you to Elysium and you're going to be fine."

"Still - I want you to know that I love you."

A small half-smile spread across her face. "I know you do. I love you too."

* * *

**AN 3: Oh yeah. Also, Max and his sister have kept in contact with Frey throughout the years and so they know all about her daughter.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Do not own Kruger or any movie characters. But Sharra is all mine!**

* * *

"I'm going out to see Spyder," Max told Sharra half an hour later as she stood at the sink washing out the blood stains from Max's T-shirt.

"Want me to go with you?" Sharra asked, dropping his shirt into the soapy water.

"No. It's too dangerous out there. They've got all sorts of drones and cameras flying all over the city looking for me. I'm not going to risk your life that way."

Sharra sighed, knowing from past experience how pointless it was to argue with Max. "Fine. I'll stay here like the dutiful little sister I am. But you better be damn careful out there."

"Of course." He leaned forward, pressed a genteel kiss to her forehead, and then walked out of the house.

Blowing out a deep breath, Sharra fell against the counter as she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. She longed to help Max any way she could, but there was nothing she could do. Max was certainly stubborn, but when he needed help, he asked for it. If there had been anything she could do, he would have told her so.

So, with nothing else to do, Sharra headed for the shower to wash off the grime and dust from her body.

* * *

Goosebumps prickled the back of Sharra's neck as she shut off the water fifteen minutes later. She stood just inside the stall for nearly two minutes, listening, but heard nothing out of the ordinary.

Shrugging, Sharra slid the shower door open and stepped out. She reached for the nearby towel, patted herself dry, and then pulled it around her body. She stepped carefully from the shower onto the tiled floor, pausing abruptly when she heard the sound of a lamp crashing to the floor out in the living room.

Heart pounding in dread, Sharra rushed out of the bathroom without thought and froze at the sight of three large men rifling through all of the furniture and drawers and even her own clothes.

'These must be the men searching for Max,' she thought to herself, gulping nervously. 'But why would they need to go through my underwear?'

"Man has unusual taste in undergarments, eh, boys?" The man with the full beard chuckled as he held up one of Sharra's white lace thongs.

Sharra feared this man instantly - his heavy beard; his wide jade eyes; his large build that was decorated by a dozen assorted weapons. Everything about him screamed power and danger, his demeanor decreeing him a man to be avoided at all costs.

And avoid him she intended to do. She started to back away - she was going to lock herself in the bathroom until they all left - but the back of her right foot struck the wall loud enough to have all the men leaping to their feet on instant alert and reaching for their guns.

But when the bearded man's eyes fell on her, he grinned and ordered his men to lower their weapons. "I don't think she's any threat to us, boys."

Sharra inched closer to the wall in a moot attempt to hide as the man approached her, eyes traveling leeringly over her body, reminding her vividly that she was clad in nothing more than a simple blue towel.

"And what have we here, eh?" The man's voice was accented with an African drawl - she could only assume this was some sort of African accent because she'd once known a girl from South Africa before she'd been approved for citizenship on Elysium.

"Can we keep her, baas?" one of the other men - also speaking with an African accent - asked, eyes lecherously raking her body from top to bottom, much as his boss's had done moments before. He licked his lips and Sharra was certain that if it weren't for the presence of his boss, she'd have already had the towel ripped from her body and he would be violating her even now.

"That's not what we're here for, Crowe," the bearded man replied without taking his eyes away from Sharra.

"You're the men looking for Max," Sharra blurted out, suddenly wishing she hadn't spoken when the man leaned in further to her, right hand braced on the wall next to her head.

"How would _you _know that, choty goty? You his girlfriend? Living in sin with a fokken criminal?"

Sharra's face paled at the hatred and pure violence she could make out in his voice. "No. What do you want with him?"

The man reached out and roughly yanked her head back by the hair. She cried out in pain and instantly started to struggle against his hold. He laughed as he slammed her forcefully against the wall, her head making a loud thunking noise as it collided.

"I'm the one doing the questioning, eh?" he growled.

"Kruger."

'Kruger' turned to the man who had addressed him - the man who was balanced precariously on the arm of the couch as he stared down at a mini-computer on his left wrist. "What is it, Drakey?"

"I pulled up some of Max DeCosta's files." Drake emphatically tapped the computer screen. "She's Max's younger sister, Sharra."

Kruger grinned at his favored second-in-command. "Thank you, Drakey." He returned his attention to Sharra, who trembled under his gaze. "Looks like we'll have use for you, after all." He gripped her painfully by the upper arm to throw her into the living room. She just barely managed to keep a hold on her towel before it could slip and expose her.

"Get dressed and pack enough clothes to last for several days," Kruger ordered her, standing back as he expected her to obey without argument.

Sharra straightened her spine, refusing to be bullied. "No."

Quirking his eyebrow in amusement, Kruger started towards her. "You would rather go naked? I assure you that the boys and I will have no fokken problem with that and will take you with us just the same."

Blanching, Sharra quickly reached for some clothes, knowing full well that this Kruger character would definitely keep to his word. She grabbed up a T-shirt, bra, pants, and underwear and started for the bathroom.

Kruger stepped into her path. "I don't think so, baby. I know there's a window in that bathroom."

"You expect me to change in front of you goons? Not going to fucking happen!"

Kruger laughed at her stubbornly brave spirit. It was foolish of her, but he had to admire her spunk. "All right. You can change in the bathroom."

Satisified, Sharra resumed going forward.

"Under my supervision."

She paused halfway to the bathroom, eyes locked with Kruger's as she thought over the choices he'd left her. She could either dress in the bathroom with only one pair of eyes leering at her or dress in the living room with all pairs of eyes leering at her. Given those options, the choice was rather easy.

Glaring at Kruger, Sharra stomped away to the bathroom, all too aware of the heavy footfalls behind her. When she tried to step into the shower stall to dress, Kruger reached out and wrapped a beefy hand around her right wrist to haul her back out. When she turned questioning eyes to him, he clucked his tongue.

"Not in there, baby. How do I know you don't have some sort of trapdoor in the floor?" The tone of his voice irritated her and she just stared deadpanned at him.

"You can't be serious."

Kruger was growing fast annoyed himself with this girl's audacious attitude. He growled at her and yanked her arm so hard he nearly pulled it out of its socket as he dragged her away from the stall, shoving her away and then moving to block the shower.

"Dress!" he ordered in a loud booming voice. "Or I'll do it my own fokken self." His eyes flashed darkly at the last statement, silently willing the girl to disobey once more so he **could **dress her himself.

Back stiffening, Sharra kept her eyes deliberately locked with his as she dropped the towel, determined to keep the fear she felt hidden. She wouldn't give the asshole that satisifaction.

She was relieved that his eyes didn't stray below her chin as she pulled her panties on, but she silently wondered at it. Her pants were the next to follow and she pulled them up as quickly as she could.

She had some trouble when she got to her bra, though. She wanted to be fully dressed and out of Kruger's eager gaze as fast as possible, so she'd pulled the cups up against her breasts to shield them from his view without snapping it first. So she was struggling to close the clasps as she used just one hand while the other held the bra to her chest.

"Need some help, baby?"

Sharra jumped at the suddeness of Kruger's voice. Before she could decline his 'offer,' he was standing behind her, smoothing his rough, callused fingers along the soft skin of her back. She jerked at the unexpected touch, but held her tongue while he snapped her bra in place.

Kruger leaned in and sniffed at the fruity scent of her hair. He grinned at the way she squirmed uncomfortably at his closeness, placing his left hand on her hip while his right combed through the soft wet strands of her hair.

"You smell so good, baby," he murmured against the top of her head. "And you're so...beautiful." He ran the tips of his fingers up her flat stomach.

Sharra slapped his hand away and jerked out of his unwelcome embrace. She threw her T-shirt over her head and then promptly marched out of the bathroom, Kruger right behind her.

"Let's pack it up, boys!" Kruger shouted, grabbing Sharra up by the arm to drag her out of the house with them. "Miss Delacourt should be arriving at our loft -"

He and the other men sniggered at that.

"- within the hour."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: I do try to keep the characters as in character as possible, but it's not easy and sometimes not even possible. I think I did all right here, but if not, I'm sorry.**

* * *

Max grunted in pain as Frey finished up the stitching on his stomach. He'd been hesitant to come to her for help - afraid the men hunting him down would come after her and her daughter Matilda - but the pain had become unbearable. Sharra had bandaged him up well, especially for a novice, but that hadn't been enough to diminish the pain. So he'd gone straight to Frey's house for some of the really good medication she kept laying around, determined to be gone within two minutes at most. But as soon as Frey had seen the wound, she'd insisted he let her take care of it for him.

"I thought you were done getting into trouble, Max," Frey commented jokingly as she threw away all the bloodied cotton balls and bandage wrappings into the nearby trash receptacle.

Max chuckled as he pulled his T-shirt on over his head. "So did I, but I seem to have a penchant for attracting it."

Frey blushed as she washed her hands. "It's not all you attract."

Max looked up in surprise and an almost shy smile stole over his face. He was still smiling when she turned to face him. Her blush deepened as Max came towards her, remaining in place as he stopped in front of her.

Max inhaled deeply as he cautiously ran the tips of his fingers over Frey's smooth left cheek. "Frey, I -"

Suddenly a loud beeping echoed through the empty house, causing both adults to jump in alarm. When they realized it was just Frey's land line, they laughed. Max ran his hands over his shaved head as Frey walked away to answer the phone.

'Why does the phone always ring just when something important is going to happen?' Max wondered to himself. 'Does the universe just plan it that way? I was so close.'

Max had been in love with Frey from the moment she'd first spoken to him in the orphanage, making him forget momentarily about being orphaned. From there, she'd gone on to teach both him and Sharra how to read, to speak Spanish, how to write. (Not in that order, of course.) He had been pining for her for so long, but had never had the guts to make any kind of move, though he was pretty certain Frey had feelings for him of a similiar nature. She was probably just as apprehensive as he was about taking their friendship to something more. It would just have to happen naturally whenever it happened.

He recalled the day she'd come to him years ago, tears shining in her eyes, to tell him she was pregnant with another man's child. A man whom she'd been working for and whom she was going to marry. The world had fallen away under his feet at that announcement, though he'd tried to hide it well. He'd congratulated her and had then promptly gone on to get himself into trouble by stealing cars and eventually ending up in prison. By the time he'd gotten out of prison, Matilda was three years old and he'd learned from Sharra that the doctor Frey had been going to marry had been killed by a work injury that could easily have been healed by a Medbay.

Max was yanked out of his thoughts as Frey walked back into the room wearing nurse's scrubs and looking harried as she pulled on a thin sweater. "I'm sorry, Max. The hospital needs me."

"Nah, don't worry about it. I need to get over to Spyder's anyhow. Get him to check out what it is that's in my head."

* * *

"They will hunt you to the ends of the earth for this," Spyder murmured as he stared in awe at the computer screen.

Max's brow furrowed. "Why? What is it?"

"It's the whole fucking data system for Elysium." Spyder licked his lips at the thought of what this could mean. "Do you know what this means, Max?"

"I don't care what it means. I did the job you asked me to do. Now get me up to Elysium so I can get to a Medbay and get healed."

Spyder turned Max's chair around to stare down into his eyes. "Max, you have the keys to all of Elysium -" He tapped on Max's forehead. "- in your head. Now, I can take you up to Elysium as soon as the skies are open again and I can save you. No problem. But with the information you have, we can hack into Elysium's system and save _everyone_."

Max stared thoughtfully up at Spyder. His mind immediately went to Frey and Matilda, who had stage four leukemia. "How long would that take?"

Spyder thought about all of the possible obstacles and did a mental calculation in his head. "Five days. But if the skies remain on lockdown, it may take up to a month. Maybe longer."

Max leapt angrily to his feet. "Fuck you, a month! I don't have a month!"

"Max, there's nothing else I can do. They've got the fucking skies closed because they're all out looking for **you**. Now, unless you want to give yourself up to these fucking assholes, you have no choice but to wait."

Max sighed, running his right hand over his head in agitation. "I need to think about this. I need to get Sharra's opinion."

Spyder grinned widely. "How is your sweet little sister? Still single?"

Max snorted against his will in amusement. "Forget it, Spyder. That's not going to happen in this lifetime or the next."

Spyder chuckled and watched Max as he left his headquarters.

* * *

A prickle of unease hit Max square in the gut when he reached the house. The front door was slightly ajar, so Max reached into his waistband and pulled out the small Baretta he'd stolen from Spyder's arsenal of weapons.

Gently toeing the door open with his foot, Max crept silently into the house, looking around as he did so. Most of the furniture was in place right where he'd left it, save for a lamp tipped over on the table near the couch. There were scruffy, dirt-encrusted footprints leading from the front door to everywhere in the living room to the bathroom.

"Sharra?" Max yelled, confident that whoever had been here in the house was no longer present.

No response.

"Sharra!"

Max searched the entire house, but there wasn't a sign of Sharra anywhere and there was really no place for her to hide. Fear for his sister crept in slowly. She wouldn't have gone anywhere without leaving him a note as to where she was going and why.

"Oh, there it is." Max breathed a sigh of relief as he walked over to the refrigerator, but it was short-lived.

'_We have your sister, boykie,' _the note read. '_You won't get her back until we get the information you have in your head. M. Kruger.'_

Max crushed the note in one hand while - with a loud roar - he sent the coffee table flipping onto its side with a loud crash.


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER: No character but Sharra belongs to me. What a shame.**

* * *

"I'm not an invalid, you stupid ape!" Sharra griped as Crowe hauled her by the arm towards the abode he shared with Kruger and Drake. "I can walk on my own two bloody feet!"

Behind them, Kruger chuckled. This girl was spunky. Not afraid to speak her mind. He liked it. He liked _her_.

Crowe turned to Kruger in the hopes that Kruger would allow him to strike the girl down for talking to him like that. He had no such luck.

"Release her, Crowe," Kruger ordered. "She has nowhere to run; she's outnumbered."

Crowe grumbled beneath his breath as he reluctantly released his painful grip, practically shoving Sharra to the ground as she fell to her knees. He grinned maniacally as she quickly got to her feet, brushing dirt and dust off of herself and then walked into their house with her head held high.

"Girl's an obnoxious bitch," Crowe grumbled to Kruger as he fell into step with him. "Needs to be taught a lesson or fokken two." His eyes scanned her body appreciatively. "Has a hell of an ass, though."

Both men's eyes now fell to the aforementioned anatomy and they grinned.

"Can I tap it, baas?"

"I think you know I'll be the first one 'tapping' her, Crowe. When I'm done with her, then she's all yours."

Crowe groaned in disappointment. "Man, you always get the best chikkies, baas."

Kruger's grin widened beneath his messy beard, white teeth barely visible. "An advantage of being the leader."

They joined Sharra in the living room, observing her as she glanced around in obvious disgust. They didn't even mind the way she judged their home. She brightened the place up just by standing there and they enjoyed staring at her lithe figure.

"How can you stand living in this hovel?" she demanded, unaware of the leers she received until she turned to face them. When she saw where the focus of their gazes were, she scowled and folded her arms over her chest.

Amusement danced in Kruger's menacing green eyes as they met hers. "Your place wasn't any better, princess." He spoke the word 'princess' with disdain and insult.

Sharra frowned at the statement. "Well...that's true."

There was about three minutes of silence after that as the four people in the room glanced amongst the others. Usually the men would throw their feet up on the coffee table, click on the first nudie flick they found, and drink to their hearts' content. With a woman in the house, however, they were a bit more reluctant to do this. At least not until Kruger gave them the go-ahead, in any case.

Finally Kruger grew fed up and he stomped forward, gripped Sharra by the elbow, and hauled her off to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. She only put up minimal resistance - not wanting to appear so weak that she'd given up hope already of ever escaping, but also not wanting to risk getting her neck or anything else broken - as she was dragged into Kruger's bedroom. There was no doubt in her mind it was Kruger's as he was clearly the man in charge around here.

"I hope you don't expect me to be sleeping anywhere near **you**!" Sharra spat as she was tossed onto the messy queen-sized bed.

"And I know you don't expect to get away with your fokken insubordination," Kruger replied as he leaned down to trap her between his arms. "You're a prisoner here, geliefde. You'd do best to fokken remember that."

Sharra glared up at him. "Oh, I doubt very much I could ever forget that fact. But don't think I'm just going to let you beat me around simply because you're stronger than me!"

Kruger chuckled and ran his fingers down the side of her face. She jerked back from his touch, but he gripped her hair tightly to hold her in place. "I wouldn't want you to let me beat you around. I like my girls having some fight in them."

"I am **not** your girl."

Smoothing his thumb over her chin, Kruger leaned in until his mouth hovered just a millimeter above hers. "You're under my watch, in my house, going to be sleeping in my room - therefore, you are **my** girl until I advise you otherwise."

He closed the gap between them and sealed their mouths together, sucking all the air out of her. She pounded her fists against his chest as his tongue swept into her mouth, tasting and exploring and generally enjoying the way she squirmed and fought his invasion.

Kruger pulled back, rasping heavily as he stared down at her. Her cheeks were flushed; her lips swollen from his aggressive onslaught; her pupils dilated, blotting out almost all the blue color in them. He was so hard in his fatigues at that moment it was painful.

"Get off me, you lug!" Sharra tried to push him away using all the (puny) strength she had, but he was just too strong for her.

Kruger ignored her demand and pressed his nose against her neck, inhaling deeply. His left hand trailed down her chest to roughly knead her breast. She whimpered in pain, but he didn't lessen his grip as he forced her legs to part with his knee.

He was just starting to grind down against her when there was a heavy, demanding knock on the door.

Kruger cursed as he reluctantly clambered to his feet to answer the door. He was prepared to let loose a string of epithets at the person interrupting, but the words died on his lips when Secretary Delacourt stepped into the room. Her cold blue eyes scanned the room automatically, coming to rest on Sharra lying on the bed, propped up on her elbows.

Delacourt turned to Kruger, pointing to Sharra as she spoke. "Who is this?"

"DeCosta's sister," Kruger replied; Sharra silently noted the way his eyes followed the blonde woman longingly. "I figured she might be incentive for that boykie to turn himself in."

Delacourt nodded approvingly. "Very impressive, Kruger."

Kruger's chest puffed out in pride at the compliment.

She glanced over at Sharra again, who was watching her steadily. She turned back to Kruger and spoke as though Sharra wasn't in the room at all.

"Until I tell you otherwise, Kruger, make sure she remains locked up here with you. If any punishments are to be doled out, make sure they don't leave a mark. We need her brother to believe she's unharmed and untouched. And - most importantly - under no circumstances are you or any of your men to rape this woman. Not until we have her brother, at least. Then I don't care what you do to her."

Kruger was noticeably disappointed by this last command, but he didn't argue.

Delacourt took one last look around, sneering at the uninhabitable living space - or even visiting space for a person of her station. "Keep me apprised of what happens around here, Kruger. Espeically with that...creature...over there."

Sharra shot up off the bed without any thought. "I'm a human being, bitch! Not a fucking creature!"

Kruger caught her up before she could launch an attack at Delacourt, holding her arms down at her sides while keeping her locked up against his chest.

"You better learn to control your prisoner better than that, Kruger," Delacourt admonished him with a domineering frown.

Sharra winched as Kruger painfully tightened his embrace around her middle as he nodded to Delacourt. "Yes, ma'am."

"I don't want to have to return to this horrid environment again. You won't appreciate the consequences if I do."

Kruger continued to watch her until she was out of sight. Once she was, he growled angrily and Sharra was filled with renewed fear.

"Don't you ever fokken act out in front of her again!" he yelled before backhanding her as hard as he could. She went sprawling to the floor, landing in a heap at the end of the bed. He hauled her up roughly by the hair, relishing her cry of pain, and hauled her against his chest. "I don't like being fokken embarrassed!"

Eyes watering, Sharra glared up at him in hatred. "I didn't realize a man like you could get embarrassed."

Kruger sneered and pushed her down onto the bed. He allowed his eyes to briefly trail over her before he stormed out of the room, making damn certain to lock the door from the outside.

Once he was gone, Sharra caved in to the all-consuming fear and began to cry. It made her feel weak and helpless, but it couldn't be helped. She didn't cry for herself, though; she cried for Max. These were the men looking for him, the men who had killed Julio. And they were going to kill her too. Just as soon as they got Max.

'Don't come after me, Max,' Sharra thought silently. 'Please. Just take Frey and Matilda and disappear somewhere.'

Sharra didn't care at that moment if she lived or died so long as Max was safe from these monsters who had taken **her**.


	5. Chapter 5

Sharra was staring morosely out of the bedroom window when Kruger returned hours later. She ignored him as he entered the room, clasping her hands tightly together between her legs. There was evidence of dried-out tears on her cheeks, but she didn't give a damn. She didn't care enough to allow herself to be embarrassed in front of a monster.

A muscle twitched in Kruger's jaw as he observed her. A long dead part of himself pitied her - and felt bad for dragging her from her home - but he ignored that small voice in his head - so small its words were indistinguishable anyway - as he dropped the spare cot he'd carried in with him to the floor with a loud clatter, causing the woman in the window to jump.

"Your bed has arrived, princess," he spat out, annoyed at how much he wanted to throw her down on his bed and aggravated that he'd been ordered not to do so. "And dinner is waiting, so get up before it's cold and tasteless."

"I'm not hungry," she replied, her voice soft and broken-sounding.

Kruger growled at her defiance. "If you don't eat now, you'll never get to eat." He stalked over to where she sat and crouched down in front of her. "I hear slowly starving to death is one of the worst ways to go." His eyes traveled over her curvaceous figure. "And that would be a fokken waste."

He hauled her to her feet by the arm, nearly breaking it in his tight grip. "Now march out to the fokken kitchen, get some food into your stomach, and don't even think about making a run for the door. You won't enjoy the consequences, but the rest of us will."

Sharra allowed him to throw her out of the room and then straightened up to walk to the other end of the house, head held high. She pointedly ignored the lecherous gazes thrown her way by Kruger's henchmen. She hated to be alone with them, but she had no other choice and she refused to allow her apprehension to show.

Their eyes remained locked to her as she sluggishly moved about the room. Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the sight of the blood that dripped down the counter from the trussed up dead hog that was laid out on the stove. Despite its gruesome appearance, however, it had been cooked well and smelled delicious. And - as it turned out - she was far hungrier than she'd thought she'd been.

Sharra searched all the cabinets for a plate, noting how cluttered all the dishes were, and grabbed a clean-looking green plastic one from the top shelf near the fridge. She loaded it up with some meat, a scoop of green beans, and a buttered roll and then continued to ignore Crowe and Drake as she reluctantly sat down in the empty chair between them.

She was halfway through her slice of meat when Drake spoke up. "I want you to slide all over my face, baby," he murmured and the words made Sharra want to retch.

"Down, Drakey," Kruger chided with a chuckle as he strolled into the kitchen. He piled himself a plate full of food, covering the entire thing so that the bottom of the plate couldn't be seen. "You know Delacourt ordered us away." He plopped down heavily in the chair across from Sharra.

Crowe scowled at the mention of Delacourt. "I don't know why we listen to that bitch. She don't respect us none."

Without any warning, Kruger slashed Crowe's forearm with a spare steak knife, making Crowe hiss and Sharra gasp in shock. "You watch your fokken mouth!" he spit out, eyes glowing dangerously.

Crowe grunted as he clutched at his injured arm. "Yes, sir, baas."

No longer hungry, Sharra shot to her feet and quietly walked out of the room. She made her way to the bedroom she'd been stashed in, swallowing back the bile she could feel rising in the back of her throat. If Kruger could attack his own man the way he had in the kitchen, God only knows what he would have done to **her** if he hadn't been ordered to restrain himself.

Sharra jumped when the bedroom door slammed shut behind her; she spun around to find Kruger leaning menacingly over his bed. She tamped down on her fear and chose instead to glare right back at him. It annoyed her to no end that this seemed to amuse him - if the quirking of his lips was any indication.

"It's not polite to leave the dinner table without excusing yourself," Kruger said and that accent sent a tremble of...something...down her spine.

"I lost my appetite," she shot back.

"I bet." Kruger straightened up and approached her. She refused to cower despite his domineering height and presence.

He reached out and - surprisingly - gently traced his fingers along her exposed collarbone. His pupils dilated to complete blackness. Her skin was so soft beneath his callused fingertips, almost like silk. He longed to trail his tongue along that bony ridge and down along the rest of her body, but - damn his luck! - it was forbidden now, which only made the desire for her that much stronger.

"I'm afraid you'll have to get used to the violence around here, baby."

Sharra nodded begrudgingly. "I know."

Her easy acceptance surprised him. This woman was a fokken mystery. One he wanted to figure out with a need that confused him. There was an overwhelming urge in him to keep her locked up all to himself to question her about her life, likes, past lovers...

That last thought brought a scowl to his lips. Well, no matter how many past lovers she may have - or if she had a current one - they were all history. Once they had DeCosta in their grasp, his sister would belong to Kruger and there would be no reason for him to hold himself back any longer.

Sharra drew back at the scowl on his face, naturally unaware of the conflicting thoughts in Kruger's mind. Why was he touching her so soothingly? Why had she felt like leaning in to that touch? What was he thinking? What had happened to him as a child to turn him into the violent creature standing before her now?

And why was she suddenly so curious about him? He'd kidnapped her and - given the chance - would rape her and then kill her when he was done with her. She was scared of him, but she also seemed to be intrigued by him. Why?

Kruger licked his lips and allowed his fingers to trail well below her collarbone and along the fleshy mounds of her breasts. She didn't pull back, but her stance did stiffen, her breath catching in her throat.

"Mine," he whispered, the animalistic urge to throw her on the bed nearly getting the better of him. But he'd never disobeyed one of Delacourt's orders before and he sure as hell wasn't going to start now. No matter how much he fokken wanted to.

Tearing himself away, Kruger marched to the ensuite bathroom. "I'm going to refresh myself, geliefde. If you don't want to be molested before you go to bed, I'd suggest you change into your nightclothes now while I won't be tempted to rip them all off again."

"How unusually thoughtful of you," Sharra muttered, wanting to kick herself as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

But Kruger simply chuckled and disappeared into the bathroom.

* * *

**AN: Sorry about the shortness of the chapters. I'll try to make longer as much as I can.**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: First off, I would like to thank all the readers and followers. I wasn't quite sure how well this story would be received and I am very appreciative of all the positive feedback. I definitely do not thank the readers enough and it's time to put an end to that. THANK YOU!**

**I would also like to shoot out a special thanks to InvisibleRanger, who has inspired me to improve my writing much more so than I would have done on my own and has encouraged me along and also has written some of the best stories I've ever read here on . Your advice and encouragement does not go unappreciated or unheeded.**

**Now, on with the story!**

* * *

Sharra was lying on her left side on the cot - dressed in a midnight blue T-shirt and small, tight boxers she'd stolen from Frey years ago - when Kruger emerged from the bathroom, still damp and still very much naked. When her eyes snapped open at the sound of the door creaking open - didn't the barbarians ever fix or clean anything around here? - she automatically sought out the man emerging. Not because she wanted to see him, but because it was natural human instinct.

Heat flooded into her cheeks when her gaze fell - purely accidentally, of course - on Kruger's bare buttocks. He was gazing at himself in the mirror above the cracked sink, stroking a strong hand down his hairy cheek. Then he turned to the side, exposing his hardened phallus.

Sharra stared unabashedly for about a minute - was he aware that she could see him? Would he even care? Doubtful. - before slamming her eyes shut again. The image was burned into her retinas, though, and she couldn't get that - okay, she had to admit magnificent - picture out of her mind. She'd never seen a naked man before. It was...enthralling, delicious, and utterly arousal-inducing.

But did it really have to be Kruger who'd ignited these previously unexperienced feelings? It was probably just the fact that he was the first man to actually look at her like she was actually a woman, not just a weak little girl. Julio had always treated her like his own little sister for as long as she'd known him - not that she'd ever wanted him to view her as any kind of romantic prospect, but still...

Sharra listened - eyes still clenched tightly shut - as Kruger left the sink area and moved into the bedroom. She felt his gaze on her and forcefully held herself still instead of squirming uncomfortably like her body itched to do.

It took all of her self-control to keep her body from stiffening up when Kruger kneeled down next to the cot and tenderly stroked some hair from her forehead, whispering something into her ear in Afrikaans. Just the sound of that rough, accented voice speaking in another language was enough to make her shudder involuntarily. His amused chuckle vibrated over her skin and he shocked her - absolutely stunned her - when he planted a soft kiss to the top of her head before standing to his feet and moving away.

Yeah. Like she was going to get any sleep **now**.

* * *

Sharra jerked out of a sound slumber by the sound of a loud growl echoing through the room. She shot up to see Kruger clutching a disheveled man - not one of his men; she'd have recognized them - by the throat. Based on the fact that they were only a foot away from her cot, it was pretty obvious where the man had been heading. She shuddered to think of what might have happened if Kruger hadn't been there.

"Who the fuck are you, boykie?" Kruger demanded gruffly. "Not that it matters. Anyone who breaks into **my** fokken house gets their throat slit!"

Sharra trembled at the violent threat in his words. He hadn't noticed that she was awake yet, but when the intruder's eyes audaciously leered openly at her despite the strangehold, Kruger saw her. He sneered - not at her, for which she was relieved - and tightened his grip.

"Don't you fokken look at her! You stay the fok away from her!"

Sharra was shocked that the man was stupid enough to smirk at Kruger when he replied with, "You're going to kill me anyway, so staying away from her won't be a fucking problem."

Kruger snarled and slammed him bodily up against the drywall. "Tell me who sent you if you'd prefer a quick, painless death."

The man shook his head with a laugh. "I would never sell him out like that. But I will tell you one thing: before he kills **you**, he will make you lie back and watch as he fucks every single orifice of that girl's body, including her eye sockets."

Sharra shuddered, goosebumps rising up over her flesh as, with a loud roar of outrage, Kruger snapped the man's neck like a twig. He then threw the lifeless, worthless body against the wall and huffed like a bull ready to attack. When he'd calmed just a fraction, he walked forward to kick the body in the balls viciously.

His eyes were still blazing when he walked over to Sharra and actually fucking apologized for her having to witness that.

She stared absently at the body, shuddered, and wrapped her arms around herself. "He had it coming," she replied without remorse, taking Kruger by surprise. "How'd you know he was here?"

"Great instincts," Kruger replied, cracking the muscles in his neck. "Military trains you to be able to snap awake at the slightest of noises. Best remember that, geliefde, if you ever want to sneak out for a midnight snack."

"You were in the military?" That certainly explained a lot about why he was so good with weapons and unaffected by violence and death.

"In South Africa since I was eight years old."

'So young,' Sharra thought to herself. 'What kind of life is that for a child?'

"I thought I detected just the slightest hint of an accent," Sharra muttered teasingly, startling herself. Was she _flirting _with her kidnapper?

Kruger laughed. "I'll leave you to shower and dress."

He headed for the door, but Sharra felt she needed to say one more thing. "Mr. Kruger?"

Kruger spun in surprise. "It's just Kruger, geliefde. 'Mr. Kruger' just sounds fokken weird."

She smiled softly in acknowledgment. "I just want to say...thank you. For stopping that guy."

His eyes flashed, almost warmly. "Nobody touches what's mine."

As he left the room, a small thrill shot through Sharra and some of her fear and hatred of the man receded.

* * *

When Sharra finally built up the nerve to exit the bedroom - she'd noticed the body had been removed while she'd been in the bathroom - Kruger and the two other men were out wrestling in the backyard. Rather violent wrestling from the looks of it. She watched them for a good two minutes before venturing into the kitchen.

Her nose wrinkled in disgust at the sight of the blood from the slaughtered hog that had dried on the cabinets. There was no way she'd be able to stomach any food with **that** staring her in the face, so she bent and searched beneath the sink until she came up with a bottle of cleaning solution, surprised they even kept this in the house when it was so clearly never used.

Grabbing up the cleanest rag she could find, Sharra set about cleaning up the blood stains and then proceeded to clean the rest of the kitchen, scrubbing hard to scrape the grime off the floors and the walls and all the cracks in between. She was so absorbed in her task that she didn't hear the squeak of the back door sliding open or the heavy footfalls stomping through the living room.

Kruger, Drake, and Crowe came to an abrupt halt just inside the kitchen, eyes drawn to the luscious behind sticking up in the air as Sharra worked tirelessly on a filthy spot in the corner next to the old bay window. They watched her with leering eyes as she sat back at last, arching her back to stretch out her aching muscles. Their gazes immediately zeroed in on her outward thrusting breasts and they rasped in short, heavy breaths.

Sharra stood to her feet, stretched once again for good measure, and then turned to see the men staring at her with open lust on their faces. She rolled her eyes and cautiously approached them.

"Now, I just spent at least three hours working my ass off to get this kitchen clean and I would appreciate it if you animals didn't muck it up." She brazenly pushed them out of the kitchen as she spoke.

Drake opened his mouth to protest, but Kruger grabbed him and Crowe by the napes of their necks to hold them in place.

"Now, now, boys," he clucked, "she did us a favor cleaning this travesty. The least we can do is go shower off and keep it clean for her." He smiled - an honest-to-God genuine smile - at Sharra and then dragged his boys away down the hall.

Sharra wondered what the sudden increase in her pulse meant and then decided quickly to ignore it in favor of grabbing one of the well-known cereal boxes off the top of the fridge to pour herself a bowl, followed shortly by another and then another.


	7. Chapter 7

**WARNINGS: Violence and gore ahead.**

* * *

Max tapped his foot anxiously against the floor of Spyder's workshop. They'd been searching for Sharra for almost three days now, but had come up empty every damn time. Spyder's database just wasn't broad enough to actually peer into buildings or behind walls. Sharra could be anywhere!

"She's got to be in the city somewhere," Max muttered, running a sweaty hand over his bald head. "They would know if I left the city."

Spyder placed a beefy hand to Max's left shoulder. "We'll find her, Max. I promise you we'll find her."

"Two more days. We'll search for two more days and if we haven't found her by then, I'm turning myself in. Damn the consequences."

"You can't do that, Max! We need that information you've got stored in your head!"

Max leapt furiously to his feet. "Fuck the information! I want my sister back and I want her safe!"

"We'll get her! I told you we'll get her! But you have to think also about what this information could do for the rest of the world. Sharra would want to help the world."

Max sighed - of course Spyder would use that as a way to guilt him - and conceded the truth of the statement. "Okay. We'll cross that line in two days. Let's just restart the search from the beginning."

* * *

Grunting, Sharra dumped the heavy load of dirty fatigues she carried into the barely usable laundry hamper next to the washing machine that had been hidden away in a dark, unused corner of the house. She'd been working tirelessly almost non-stop for the past two days to clean this hovel because: a) she'd had absolutely nothing else to do and b) she couldn't stand having to live in such filth.

"This is great," Crowe commented as he and Drake sat slouched on the couch, feet crossed at the ankles as they lay propped on the coffee table; Kruger was out hunting down that night's dinner. "We should have gotten a maid years ago."

Scowling, Sharra wasn't afraid to smack Crowe on the calf of his leg as she was walking past him. "I am not your maid! Your prisoner, yes, but not your damn maid. It's just that **somebody **has to clean this sty."

Crowe grinned as Sharra strolled back to the washroom and tossed the clothes into the washing machine. "I'm really starting to like her, Drakey. She ain't that afraid of us, but she knows when to keep her fokken mouth shut."

Drake laughed in agreement. "The perfect woman." They clinked their beer bottles together in a salute just as Kruger entered the house via the sliding glass door on the patio.

"Got some dinner, boys. Get out there and cut it into enough slabs to last for a week," Kruger ordered them as he thoughtfully toed off his boots at the last minute.

Groaning, Drake and Crowe stood to their feet to do their boss's bidding like the obedient henchmen they were.

Kruger strolled into the kitchen to grab himself a fresh frosty bottle of beer and then sauntered through the house in search of his pretty little prisoner. He found her bent over the dryer pulling some fresh clothes out and, unable to resist the temptation, smacked her hard on her upraised, perfectly curved ass.

She shot up with a squeal like she'd been shot and immediately turned to glare at him. "I know you're a heathen and all, but you could at least pretend you have **some** manners."

Kruger just laughed and leaned against the wall. "I enjoy watching you do all these chores, geliefde. You tend to bend over a lot, like you're presenting yourself to me as an offering." His eyes twinkled as he spoke and she flushed bright red all the way down to her chest.

"I am not presenting anything! Do you think I'm an animal?!"

Kruger growled. "I'd sure love to take you like one."

Before Sharra could respond, the whole house suddenly shook with a violent explosion. She stumbled against the dryer, grunting in discomfort when the sharp edge dug painfully into her stomach.

Kruger swore viciously as he pushed away from the wall where he'd fallen. He stomped heavily through the house to peer out the living room window, but all he could see was a large cloud of dust where a bomb had gone off not even two feet from the house itself.

"Why would someone blow up the dirt in front of the fokken house instead of blowin' up the house?" Crowe grumbled as he and Drake came to a stop either side of Kruger.

"Because it was a warning, not an actual attack," Kruger replied. His eyes were flashing maniacally as he spun automatically to glower at Sharra, who cowered back at his stare. "Those better not be your fokken friends trying to rescue you! There will be great pain for **you** if it is!"

"Max doesn't have access to grenades and even if he did, he wouldn't take the risk of shooting one off anywhere near where I might be stashed."

Kruger grunted in acknowledgment and then debated other options on who would be out for them; it was a hell of a long list. Then he thought of the man who had broken into his room several days ago. He'd been working for somebody else; he had made **that** damnably clear. But he had never given up the man's name, so Kruger was back to square-fucking-one in regards to identifying the little shit trying to kill them. Or trying to scare them, as the case may be.

But Kruger had outgrown that pesky emotion decades ago, along with many others. The only emotions he really ever felt anymore were lust, excitement, and anticipation. And he was certainly feeling that exciting anticipation of blood lust streaming through him at that very moment, eager to find out who was behind this little hissy fit.

"Drake, Crowe, grab some weapons. Sharra -"

Sharra started at the use of her actual name. She hadn't been sure Kruger had actually remembered it.

"- stay in the house until we have need of you."

"Why would you need **me**? I'm not a warrior."

Kruger sneered as he strapped half a dozen guns, grenades, and knives to the exo-skeleton he had grabbed up from the floor where he'd tossed it the day before. Then he threw the exo-skeleton over his shoulders, double checking that his beloved katana was in place holstered behind his back.

"Ready, boys?" he asked, dry lips parting in a frightening smile that more resembled a grimace.

Crowe and Drake mumbled their affirmatives and followed their leader to the front door.

Kruger paused to turn and address Sharra. "Stay out of fokken sight or I'll come in and whip you bloody myself."

Sharra's spine stiffened and her eyes flashed, but she smartly remained silent. She watched their exit through narrowed eyes. Once the door shut behind Crowe, she slunk over to the window to observe them in action.

* * *

Kruger could barely see through the dust blowing through the air, getting into his eyes and blurring his vision. Not being able to see accurately pissed him off and he ordered Drake to hand him some goggles. Drake obediently did so and Kruger quickly slid them on.

"Much fokken better," he mumbled to himself. He would actually be able to see the fucking bastards out here now, whether they were hiding behind sheds or approaching them from the front directly. Either way, they wouldn't be living much longer.

"It's been too fokken long since we've had some action like this, eh, Baas?" Crowe shouted over the whistling of the wind, which provided little to no cool breeze.

Kruger shot back a response in Swahili just as a whistling sound - not the same whistling sound as that of the wind; it was much higher-pitched - pierced the air. They ducked quickly and then one of the neighboring trucks behind them exploded into a bright flaming orange ball. Kruger cursed and pulled out a grenade of his own.

"Drakey, what do you see?"

Drake typed in some information into the monitor on his wrist that even Kruger didn't understand. "Four men on that building over there -"

He pointed to an abandoned apartment building about a mile ahead. Kruger zoomed in with the goggles and could, in fact, see four crouching figures moving about on the roof.

"- three men hiding behind that dumpster over there -"

Kruger promptly bit off the firing pin of a grenade and tossed it in the direction of the closest dumpster. He, Crowe, and Drake deployed their shields to protect themselves just as the metal dumpster exploded amidst loud, keening screams of agonized pain.

The three of them whooped loudly as dismembered human body parts flew through the air around them, splattering the dirt and the walls and every object in between with thick crimson blood.

The men on the roof shouted in outrage and started firing machine guns at them. Kruger, Crowe, and Drake just laughed as the bullets bounced off the shields like a tennis ball off a wall.

"What's the matter, maaifoedies?" Kruger shouted, well aware the men could hear them even from this distance. "Lousy shots, eh? Nothing to be too embarrassed about. You'll be dead soon anyway."

God, he loved taunting his prey. Made them more vulnerable; made them angry enough to become careless, giving Kruger and his boys the chance they needed to take them out.

They continued forward, completely unaffected by the bullets that continued whizzing through the air at them. They struck the ground at their feet, spraying dirt up against the shields to cloud their vision once more as they walked fast. They ignored it and came to a stop in front of the run-down, ramshackled apartment building.

Kruger tilted his head to stare up at the men on the roof in amusement. They were all scrambling around trying to find weapons to come down for a hand-to-hand battle, but they needn't bother.

"Don't bother with any heavy artillery, you braks!" Drake yelled up at them. "Just recite the prayers your mommas taught you and hope your death is a quick one!"

That said, Drake ripped off the firing pin of another grenade, pulled his arm back as far as it would go, and then threw the grenade through one of the first-floor windows.

Kruger, Drake, and Crowe all scrambled away from the building to duck down behind a nearby dump truck. Within ten seconds, the entire building burst into bright orange flames as its foundation cracked and splintered. The screams of at least ten men rang in their ears as the building slowly crumbled into a large pile of ash. They'd only seen four men on the infrared, so the others must have been hiding out inside.

"Jislaaik!" Kruger cried excitedly as he jumped up to his feet, bumping fists with his men as they walked away from the demolished, burning remains of the building.

Still chuckling, Drake glanced back down at the infrared and then let loose a long string of curses. "Fok, baas, we've got incoming from straight ahead and there's at least thirty of 'em!"

Kruger cracked his neck and then his knuckles, wild green eyes lit up in antsy anticipation. "Nothing we can't handle, boys! Keep your shields up and get your best weapons ready; we're going in!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Warnings: More violence and, of course, the swearing. But that's pretty much a given with anything having to do with Kruger. ;)**

* * *

Sharra was bouncing anxiously on the balls of her feet as she paced nervously up and down the hallway; around the kitchen; around the couch in the living room. She wasn't worried for them. Not worried at all. She was just - she didn't like being alone here. It was an unfamiliar house in unfamiliar territory and there were dangerous men after the dangerous men who had captured her. It wasn't exactly a comforting thought.

She was surprised that she was actually surprised. Of course Kruger and his men had enemies. They were violent mercenaries who slaughtered families' loved ones and then laughed about it, not giving a damn who they pissed off in the process. Of course people would want them dead, would want to extract their own form of justice on them. This probably wasn't the first time their house - which wasn't exactly a fortress - had been attacked and she doubted it would ever be the last.

But what if something did happen to them? What would become of her? She hadn't exactly been paying attention when they'd dragged her from her home, too miserable and self-pitying over her unfortunate luck and wrought with concern for Max.

Sharra wondered what Max was doing at that very moment. He was probably out scouring the city for her, but the chances of him actually finding her were slim to none. Kruger kept her caged up in the house all day, every day - like a dog in a cage. He never let her leave because he wouldn't risk her being seen or attempting an escape, which would only cause **her** more harm in the end.

"Oh, I miss you, Max," she whispered to herself, arms crossing together over her chest. She prayed that he wouldn't give himself up in a vain attempt to save her. That would just be suicide. True, he'd probably die anyway if he didn't make it up to Elysium...

She shuddered and sent up another little prayer that she would get to see him alive again.

Truth be told, Sharra might actually be safer with Max staying away. As long as that Delacourt bitch needed her to remain untouched and evidently unharmed, Kruger wouldn't do much more than slap her if she was out of line or defiant. Once Max showed up, though, Kruger would be given free rein to do to her whatever he wanted to do.

It was obvious - from Sharra's one brief meeting with the woman - that Kruger was obsessively in love with the blonde little twit. It had been clear to Sharra when he'd given in to her demands not to touch Sharra when she was positive that nothing else would have stopped him.

The sudden boom of what could have been an Ak-47 - Sharra wasn't at all familiar with weapons, but it was deafening and highly destructive - right outside the house pulled Sharra straight out of her wandering thoughts in time to see Kruger, Drake, and Crowe fly through the air to the ground directly in front of the house.

* * *

"Ow. Fok, boss, that hurt like a son of a bitch," Drake groaned, clutching the left side of his skull as he struggled to sit up.

"You've gone through worse, Drakey," Kruger replied, ignoring the dull ache in his own side as he slowly clambered to his feet.

They weren't sure what exactly had happened back there, but their shields had been effectively disabled. Not broken permanently, but disabled temporarily, which was enough to make them twice as vulnerable. It pissed Kruger off when things went awry that way, but fortunately it was only a small setback. There were only a small handful of survivors from their earlier ambush, so it wouldn't be too difficult for the three of them to dispatch the six men stalking towards them now.

"To your feet, you fokken pussies!" Kruger ordered his men as he reached around behind him to pull out his katana. There was a gleam of excitement in his eyes and an expression of pure, undiluted blood-lust on his face as he settled himself into a striking position, knees bent and arms held out in front of him as the enemy slowly advanced.

There was a lot of snarling and growling as all the men collided into a group as angry, violent animals. Punches were thrown; skin was slashed with the sharp points of swords and knives; throats slit viciously. The sounds of bones snapping and breaking under pressure filled the air as men started to drop like flies.

Kruger licked his lips and smirked at his last opponent, who happened to be favoring his right knee as he limped forward, expression every bit as feral as Kruger's own was.

"You're a real nuisance, you know, Kruger," the man grumbled, hacking as dry earth dust flew into his mouth. "A real fucking nuisance. You're going to get what's coming to you, even if I'm not the lucky bastard delivering the fatal blow."

"Tell me who you're working for, boykie, and I'll let you live." He was lying, of course, but there was no harm in false security.

"I'd love to give you his name - seeing as how you'll be fucking dead soon - but I'd rather you died wondering just who in the hell was the enemy skilled enough to bring the almighty Kruger to his death."

Kruger sneered, teeth stark against the darkness of his beard. "Not going to happen, boykie! I haven't lived this fokken long to be taken down by a cuiter like you!"

The nameless little shithead scowled and stupidly rushed him, pathetically small blade clutched in his right hand. Kruger mentally shook his head. Did this idiot really think he could kill Kruger with that measly piece of shit or was he really **that** stupid?

The knife slashed through the air at Kruger, missing him by inches. Kruger laughed, momentarily distracted enough to allow the knife to glide into his skin under the small portion of armor that didn't cover his body. He hissed at the burning sensation, but it was hardly enough of a wound to disable him or even annoy him. Compared to having his left arm blown off and then re-attached by a medbay last month, this was nothing but a minor knick. One he might have received if he'd been shaving his chest on a drunken challenge.

"That all you've got, boykie?" Kruger shouted, laughing maniacally as spittle flew into his beard. "Going to take a hell of a lot more than that!"

That set the younger man off again - he was clearly a rookie fresh out of whatever bullshit excuse for an academy he'd graduated from - and he launched himself at Kruger, not lasting even thirty seconds as the sharp tip of Kruger's katana slid like butter through the young man's throat.

Before Kruger had a chance to cheer in victory, Crowe was calling out to him, almost sounding panicked; if Kruger hadn't know him so well, he'd think he was. He spun around to see that Crowe was trapped beneath a heavy piece of metal, both legs rendered useless in aiding him.

Kruger's gaze slid past Crowe to Drake, who was struggling in a fight against a bulky man twice his size with more muscles than any actual battle skills. Under ordinary circumstances, Drake could easily take this man out - hands down - had he not recently suffered a pretty vicious beating to the head mere moments before. His hands were clamped like vices around the bigger man's wrists, barely keeping the man from pulling his head off right there on the spot. But his strength was quickly waning.

"Drakey!" Kruger started towards his fallen comrade, but was suddenly felled himself by something large - also metal - slamming into the back of his head.

Swearing in every language he knew, Kruger swung back at his attacker, successfully slicing the man's head from his shoulders to send it flying through the air to land dully on the ground several feet away.

Unfortunately, however, the strike to Kruger's head had been hard enough to bring him to his knees. His vision blurred and nausea roiled inside his stomach as he clutched agonizingly at his throbbing head.

"Kruger!"

Crowe was calling out his name again.

"Drakey!"

The pain and fear for his friend evident in Crowe's voice made Kruger look up. Drake was only seconds from death - the big man's hands squeezing tightly around his neck as he started to turn it - and there was not a fokken thing he or Crowe could do about it.

* * *

**AN: Again, sorry about the shortness of the chapter. I promise the next one will be much longer. And hopefully pretty rewarding for everyone.**


	9. Chapter 9

**WARNINGS: Some violence and a bit of not-too explicit smut towards the end of the chapter. Don't like, don't read. It's pretty much just a preview of what will come in later chapters.**

* * *

Kruger cared about his men. They were the best friends he'd ever had and he'd certainly never had any friends before he'd met them. As a kid, he'd been outcast due to his having to live on his own in a small shack outside what used to be Johannesburg. He'd never met his asshole of a father and his mother had died of syphilis when he was five years old. He'd been forced to take care of himself from hence forward and it hadn't been easy nor had it been pretty. He'd learned from a very early age to depend only on himself and how to kill for his food.

He'd grown accustomed to that lifestyle and had even begun to enjoy it. But one day - while he'd been distracted by a pretty little cullis - he'd foolishly stumbled into a bear trap. The man who'd caught him had taken him in and taught him the ways of life in some extremely graphic ways that Kruger would never forget. Then, on young Kruger's eighth birthday, he was sent off to the military, who were so desperate for new recruits that they were paying hefty sums for even unwanted little boys.

Three years - consisting of hacking up enemies and leaving their corpses to the birds - into the military, Kruger had been transferred to new sleeping quarters, where he'd been introduced to Drake and Crowe, who'd been bunking together for years. It had taken Kruger quite a few months to earn their admiration and loyalty, but by God he had done it. After that, the three of them had been nearly inseparable.

Kruger would never admit to weakness of any kind - let alone to caring about anyone other than himself - to anyone, but he'd never felt so helpless as he did at that moment watching Drake's neck slowly twist on his shoulders, skin stretching as bones started to crack.

"Drakey!" Crowe yelled, anguish filling his voice. An anguish that Kruger felt deep in his own cold, black heart, but one he would never express openly.

A blast of gunfire suddenly rang through the air, alarming Kruger and Crowe, making them jump. They each automatically checked themselves for signs of a gunshot wound, but they found none. They looked up and bothed stared - stunned - as the man who'd been seconds away from breaking Drake's neck slumped to the ground lifelessly, bullet hole directly in the middle of his forehead.

Crowe's bewildered expression - hazel eyes filling quickly with relief - met Kruger's. They shrugged as they silently questioned each other and then turned as one to the front door of their house, where a shaky Sharra lowered her trembling right hand, which held a small handgun.

The men stared at her in dumbfounded shock - even Sharra looked shocked at what she'd done. Her hold on the gun loosened and it fell to the ground; it was a miracle it didn't discharge any more bullets. Her face had turned an ashen white shade as she fell against the side of the house and wrapped her arms around her midsection, shivering violently.

Kruger quickly closed his gaping mouth and slowly forced himself to his feet. He noted that Drake was up and on his feet, well enough to lift the metal fragment off of Crowe's legs, so he limped over to where Sharra was slouching and gently pried her arms from her hips. She barely reacted to his presence or his touch, still staring shell-shocked at the man that **she** had killed.

Pulling her away from the gruesome scene of carnage in front of her, Kruger led Sharra through the house to the master bedroom and sat her down on the edge of the bed.

"You saved Drakey," was all he managed to get out before bending down to lay a heady kiss full of grateful longing to her mouth. She didn't fight him, but she didn't respond either. Kruger didn't care either way because he pulled back just as quickly as he'd started.

"Go take a shower," Kruger said in a soft, placating tone of voice. "The boys and I have a huge fokken mess to clean up."

* * *

Sharra was barely aware of the warm water droplets raining down over her slick, naked body. She just stared blankly at the tiled wall in front of her, fighting vigorously against the goosebumps that threatened to break out over her skin. Her legs were trembling and her nails were digging so deeply into her arms they were practically embedded into her flesh. Her ears were still ringing from the loud gunshot, but it was starting to fade now.

She'd never killed anyone before. She'd never even hit anyone before. She wasn't a violent person by any means. The closest she'd come to being violent was when she'd fought against Kruger and his henchmen. She didn't know how to feel about it all. She knew what she **should** feel - disgust at herself, shame, guilt - but she felt none of those things. In fact, she felt numb. Physically and emotionally numb.

She was so numbly absent to the world that she was unaware of how long she'd been standing beneath the showerhead; so she was startled when a hand reached into the stall to shut the water off and then that same hand eased her out of the stall and into the slightly cooler temperature of the bathroom itself.

Sharra looked up blankly as Kruger wrapped a fluffy white towel around her shoulders without missing a beat. His eyes were surprisingly expressive as he stared down at her, hands rubbing the towel against her wet shoulders to dry them.

When he spoke, his voice was as soft as it could be for a man with such a gruff exterior; almost concerned even. "You still in there, bokkie?" He tapped pointedly on her forehead.

She nodded absently, but remained quiet.

Kruger sighed as he continued to run the towel along her shoulders and then up into her hair. He knew she was still in shock over having taken a human life, but he couldn't think of anything that **he** could say that would be of any comfort. The first time he'd killed a man, he'd been over the fucking moon about it and had eagerly anticipated his next kill. Drake and Crowe had been the same way.

But Sharra wasn't like them. She wasn't a brutal, vicious killer. She was probably one of those women who flinched at just the thought of having to squash a bug to death. She was innocent and that in and of itself seemed to appeal to Kruger. It appealed to that protective male instinct inside of him that had never been touched upon before.

This wasn't good, of course. No good could possibly come of this. She was burrowing her way under his skin and in a matter of less than a week. He'd known from the instant he'd set eyes on her that she was meant to be his. It was just one of those damn things a person just...knew.

Kruger guided Sharra into the bedroom and gently lowered her - again - onto the mattress. He left her sitting there as he went to rummage through the bag he'd made her pack when he'd ripped her out of her home. He grabbed up a pair of panties - lingering momentarily to caress the silky material between his fingers - a bra, a pair of jean shorts, and a purple tank top. He straightened up and set the pile down next to her.

"Get dressed," he ordered softly. "And then join us out in the backyard."

Sharra cleared her throat and finally blinked some of the fog away. "You - you got all the bodies cleared away?"

Kruger chuckled and ran the tip of his index finger down the smooth apple of her cheek. "They're all gone, bokkie. You won't be out there tripping over any body parts; I promise."

Sharra nodded with a shudder and waited for him to leave before she dropped the towel and proceeded to dress.

* * *

Kruger, Crowe, and Drake were dancing around a barbecue pit with a few of their neighbors when Sharra cautiously stepped out of the house. All eyes fell on her immediately and she shuffled her feet nervously under the unwelcome onslaught of attention. They all looked at her like she was some sort of...savior.

"Come have a drink with us, choty goty!" Drake cried as he skipped over to grip her by the elbow. Based on the way his words slurred and the fact that he tripped over his left foot as he led her to the others, Sharra could tell that he was far past intoxicated.

"This is the little geliefde who saved my boy Drakey!" Kruger crowed loudly, pulling Sharra to his side and draping his arm over her shoulders. "Let's get her a beer, boys!"

As Crowe left to retrieve her a beer, Kruger rattled off a list of names that Sharra would never be able to remember and then led her over to one of the lawn chairs scattered all over the yard. He eased her down into the chair and then took the seat next to her. He cracked open a fresh bottle of beer of his own and threw his head back to chug down half of it in one swallow.

Sharra accepted the beer Crowe held out to her with a grateful nod of thanks. She twisted the cap off, took an almost dainty sip of the foul liquid, and then made a face as the taste washed down her throat. It was bitter and left a funny taste in her mouth and caused all the men around her to laugh at her contorted expression of disgust. Still - alcohol was alcohol. And she could damn sure use a shitload of it.

She downed the bottle surprisingly fast and then turned to Kruger. "Have anything stronger?"

Chuckling, Kruger stood to his feet. "Like the stronger dop, eh? My kind of girl." He was gone less than a minute before he returned with a large, half-full bottle of pure vodka and another a quarter-full of rum. "Take your pick, bokkie."

After glancing between the bottles, Sharra gratefully took the vodka since there was more of it. Her eyes then fell automatically on the gash on Kruger's bare stomach, noticing that it had been patched amateurishly and needed some additional touch-ups.

"That looks like shit," Sharra muttered to Kruger, pointing to the bandage that hung loosely from his body. "You want me to fix it for you?"

Kruger glanced down. "What the fok's the problem?"

"The patchwork is shoddy and I'm betting the stitches aren't even properly sewn together. But if it doesn't bother you..." She uncapped the vodka to take a long, heavy swallow.

She jerked, startled, when Kruger hauled her up to her feet by the elbow to drag her bodily into the house. He didn't release her as they moved back to the bedroom they shared.

"There's a first aid kit under the sink," Kruger informed her as he flopped back onto the bed. He pulled the bottle of rum he still held up to his lips and swallowed as he watched her bend down to retrieve the first aid kit. Now **there** was a sight he would never tire of.

Sharra pulled out the box with the classic red cross emblem emblazoned over the lid and moved to the bed, setting it down and opening it to rifle through its contents. She extracted a small needle, some thread, and a fresh bandage before instructing Kruger to scoot back against the wall.

"I've always loved women who tell me what to do," Kruger commented with a grin as he obediently slid back until his head thunked against the white plaster behind him.

'Yeah, you've made that abundantly clear,' Sharra thought to herself as she recalled the way he'd obeyed Delacourt's orders without complaint.

As Sharra set to work correcting Drake's hastily done stitchwork, Kruger cleared his throat gruffly. "Not that I ain't grateful, bokkie, but why did you choose to save Drakey's life? You know - him being one of your captors and all."

Sharra shrugged as she jammed the needle into his skin; he barely flinched. "I guess I just figured you three were the lesser of two evils."

"How so?"

"I assumed that the men who'd ambushed you guys might be working for the same man that the man who broke into the house worked for and I don't really relish meeting him or getting killed by his underlings. You were ordered not to hurt me - for the time being anyway - so you're the lesser of two evils."

"Sound thinking."

Sharra cut off the last of the threading, taped up the bandage over the wound, and then quickly yanked her hands away from the hot flesh covering well-formed muscles. Her hands trembled - like they'd been burned just from grazing his skin - as she made a grab for the vodka bottle and took a lengthy gulp.

They sat there silently for several minutes as they each drank from their respective bottles of alcohol. It didn't take Kruger long to finish his and once he had, he set the empty bottle down and reached for Sharra. She squeaked in surprise as she was pulled up against his deliciously bare chest. She fought him briefly, but then shrugged and relaxed back against him as the alcohol finally kicked in.

Grinning, Kruger leaned in to sniff at her hair - how women could always smell so wonderfully fruity had always fascinated him. His hands glided gently up and down her arms, stopping on a spot where he could feel the sides of her breasts against his hands.

The alcohol must really be dulling her senses, Sharra mused, practically melting into Kruger's arms as he held her. That could be the only explanation for the way her skin tingled and ignited where he touched and the pulsing throb settling between her thighs. She was drunk and she'd never had a man's hands on her before. She was just overly sensitive was all.

"You're a very bright and courageous young woman, bokkie," Kruger whispered huskily into her ear. The rasp of that voice directly in her ear sent flames of desire licking up her spine. "I like that. A lot." He emphatically pushed his erection into the small of her back and chuckled. "As you can fokken tell."

"You're not a'sposed to rape me," she blurted out, words slurring, heart pounding erratically, voice scratchy.

The statement caught Kruger off-guard, but then he laughed loudly. "I'm not going to rape you, baby. I'd much prefer you willing." He sensually dragged the rough underside of his tongue up the smooth column of her throat and up to her ear.

Sharra trembled with new sensation - it was definitely the alcohol making her feel this way! She swore to herself then and there that there could be no other explanation. Certainly she was not...attracted to this heathen. The whole time she'd been here, she'd never had this reaction to him before. She also hadn't had a drink here before. Therefore, the alcohol was doing this to her.

"I want to touch you, baby," Kruger rasped into her ear even as his left hand glided down the soft skin of her upper chest area. "So badly." His hand slipped into her shirt to firmly grasp and knead her right breast.

Sharra giggled breathlessly - again, another side effect of the vodka: the giggliness. "I think you already are."

His own laugh vibrated against her back. He said nothing as he slipped his hand beneath the cup of her bra, fingers ever-so-gently squeezing the round flesh before plucking her nipple to hardness. She moaned and arched up against his hand.

"You like that, baby?" Kruger asked. When she nodded, he tightened his grip to the point of pain. She hissed in through her teeth, hands falling to his thighs, nails digging in deeply through his pants.

Kruger abruptly yanked his hand out of her shirt, causing her to whimper in protest and thrust her chest forward. He smirked at this involuntary response as he trailed his hand down her stomach to undo the button of her shorts. His breath caught in his throat when she wiggled those curvy hips of hers and he nearly ripped the zipper off when he yanked it down.

He wasted no time shoving his hand down her shorts and straight into her panties, groaning the instant he touched her because his fingers were saturated almost immediately.

"Fuck, baby," he breathed into her ear. "And all this time I thought you didn't like me."

"I don't," Sharra replied even as her body jerked reflexively when he scraped his nail over her swollen clit.

"So your mouth says; but your pussy tells me otherwise, bokkie."

She shuddered as that dirty word left his lips, more liquid spilling out of said pussy to soak Kruger's hand. Her eyes drifted shut as her ass unintentionally rubbed up and down on Kruger's crotch. He growled at the very welcome pressure this put on his aching cock and trailed the tips of two fingers down her sopping slit.

"Fuck, baby, you're so ready for me." Kruger nipped at her earlobe and sped up the furious rubbing of his fingers over her clit and through her drenched folds. She arched up and writhed as the pleasure she was still claiming was all related to the alcohol built higher and higher. When his middle finger dipped into her clenched opening, that was it for her.

Kruger whispered into her ear the filthy things he wanted to do to her, drawing out the ecstasy of her orgasm with those words and the accent in which he said them.

His finger was still stroking inside her as she started to fall back from the high her climax had brought her to. She was so blissed out she barely acknowledged the stiffening of Kruger's body behind her as she slumped back against him.

"You're a fucking virgin?!" Kruger jerked back from her like she'd scorched him.

"Yeah." Her own body tensed. "What of it?"

Kruger ignored her as he shoved her face-first into the mattress and shot to his feet. He was cursing heavily in Afrikaans as he stormed out of the bedroom and down the hall to the bathroom that Drake and Crowe shared, the slamming of the door echoing throughout the whole house.

For a brief moment Sharra felt hurt at his abrupt departure. But then she shrugged and chugged more vodka, instantly blocking out her own mind of everything that had happened that day.


	10. Chapter 10

**WARNING: BIT OF SEXUAL CONTENT IN THE BEGINNING. NOTHING TOO EXPLICIT.**

**AGAIN, A THANKS TO ALL THE FANS READING AND FOLLOWING THIS STORY! I WRITE THIS FOR ALL OF US KRUGER LOVERS OUT THERE!**

* * *

Kruger huffed deeply as he stared at himself in the mirror, hands gripped around the marble sink so tightly his bones nearly popped out of the skin. He was breathing so heavily that his breath fogged the mirror, obscuring his reflection. Sneering, he reached out to wipe it clear and then laughed without humor as he took in the sight of the man staring back at him. Cheeks flushed in arousal, dark pupils blown wide with lust, heart rate almost incapcitating.

Ever since that bratty girl had entered his life, she'd been nothing but a distraction. A beautiful, nubile distraction. Every day was a fucking struggle as it was to keep his dick in his pants around her, but now? Learning that no man had ever touched her before - that she was as innocent as she'd always seemed - was seriously pushing his control rapidly downhill. Being strained as it was already, he had no fucking idea how he'd managed to wrench himself out of that room. That in itself was a fucking wonder - a miracle even.

"Control yourself, you fokken pussy!" Kruger growled at himself. "She's just a damn port to stick a dick in."

A port that had never been used; a port that he was desperate to feel clutching at him as he thrust into her; but that was forbidden to him right now, so tomorrow at some point in the day he would give a little visit to the Bush Shack - an old favorite brothel of his that was blatant about what their business catered to - and he would make do with whatever loskind was available.

But for now...

He reached into his pants, pulled out his erection, and began to jerk and twist his wrist around himself vigorously, recalling that tight pussy that just minutes before had been clamped around his fingers. That warm flesh so soft and wet and...

With a loud bellow of deep pleasure, Kruger spilled himself over his hand and against the counter, continuing to thrust into his own palm until he was completely depleted of all bodily fluids.

He slumped against the side of the sink to catch his breath, huffing raggedly as he continued to stare at himself. God, what this woman was doing to him. What she **could **do to him. He growled at his reflection, barely resisting the impulse to punch it in the mirror, and then stalked out of the bathroom, heavy boots stomping the ground with each step, causing the foundation under the walls to shake.

When he walked back out into the waning daylight - the sun had almost completely set half an hour ago - Sharra had returned to partying with the boys. She was considerably drunker than she had been when he'd left her and she was laughing with one of the neighbors as he twirled a lock of her smooth auburn hair around his index finger.

An unexplainable rage coursed through Kruger at the scene. His blood boiled hotly under his skin as the same man leaned further into her, eyes drawn to the lush flesh peeking up at him beneath her shirt. Kruger growled beneath his breath, uncurling his hands from the fists they'd formed in his sudden anger, and marched over to the beer cooler to grab himself a beer. He twisted it open, glugged some of it down, and then casually sauntered over to where Sharra drunkenly swayed against two of the men, completely unaware of what was going on around her as the men fucking dared to rest their hands on her hips and waist.

Kruger roughly grabbed Sharra by the elbow to jerk her away from all the others. He sneered an expression he knew made people cower in fright when one of the men tried to pull her back. The man backed off immediately, turning to speak to one of his friends instead.

Throwing Sharra down into an empty lawn chair, he scowled down at her before walking away to rejoin the others. They spent the next several hours drinking and cracking lewd jokes; the drunker they got, the louder and more rambunctious they became.

Two hours until midnight, Kruger decided to call it a night. He strolled away from the boys to gather up Sharra - who had passed out some time ago - into his arms. He ignored the catcalls thrown his way as he carried her into the house. She snuggled up to his chest out of instinct in her sleep and a small sigh of contentment whispered out of her parted lips.

A strange, warm sensation that wasn't borne of the booze he'd consumed spread through his chest. She looked so carefree and peaceful that it made him physically ache to look at her. It was odd and alarming what he was feeling in regards to this woman. She made him want to keep her locked away in a cage somewhere, not because he wanted to chain her up - though that certainly would have a few perks to it - but because he would always know where she was and that she was safe. She made him want to protect her. He hated that. Emotion was a weakness that could be exploited by even the stupidest of enemies and it was not one he could afford in his line of work. Over the centuries, emotion had gotten thousands of men killed. He'd be damned if he let that happen to **him**, a fucking mercenary for God's sake. 'Feelings' had no place in a mercenary's life.

Striding into his bedroom, Kruger glanced briefly at Sharra's cot and then down at the woman in his arms. He promptly dumped her onto the right side of the bed. She groaned in her sleep and rolled onto her side to face the door.

With little concern, Kruger stripped down to nothing and slid onto the other side of the bed. He lifted the heavy duvet, slid easily underneath it, and then draped it over his body and Sharra's. He watched her sleep for several seconds before cursing in his native tongue and shifting onto his side, facing away from her.

* * *

Sharra startled awake, heart pounding erratically in her chest, head throbbing from the alcohol she'd consumed the night before. "Ugh," she groaned as she sat up. She hadn't drank that much in at least five years.

When she threw her legs over the edge of the bed - bed? Her eyes widened as she realized that she was in Kruger's bed instead of on her cot. What the hell was she doing **here**? At least she was still fully clothed. - her stomach churned violently.

"Oh god." Sharra raced to the bathroom just in time to heave the booze out of her system into the toilet. She'd always been a lightweight when it came to drinking, but drinking straight vodka, for her, was practically suicide.

Once her stomach had been emptied of whatever contents it'd held, Sharra fell back against the side of the tub and groaned once more. Her head felt like someone was hammering at it with boulders and she wished the invisible boulders would just knock her out; her vision was also blurring slightly. What exactly had she done yesterday to elicit such excessive drinking? She could remember vividly the explosion in front of the house; the multiple men fighting and tearing limbs from each other; Drake nearly being killed; Sharra saving his life by shooting a man in the head.

At the suddenness of that recollection, Sharra's stomach churned violently yet again. She rushed back to the toilet and leaned over the porcelain seat again, but she had nothing left in her to expel. She collapsed brokenly onto the floor as tears trickled from her eyes.

She'd killed a man, taken a human life. The world was better off without him no doubt, but the fact that she'd done it so easily, without giving it any thought... Sharra stared blankly down at her right hand. She could still see it shaking in her hand, could still feel her body flying back against the house from the kick of the gun she hadn't been expecting.

What a lucky shot she'd gotten in. She'd just pointed, aimed, and fired. She hadn't expected to actually hit anything, but that bullet had managed to go straight through that man's head, killing him instantly. She'd done that. She replayed the scene over and over again in her mind, but the more she saw it played out, the less regret she felt over it. If Kruger and his men had been executed, those assholes would have come after her. She doubted very much that they'd have been as lenient with her as Kruger had been.

A shadow fell over and her head snapped up to see Kruger hovering in the doorframe, expression inscrutable as he stared down at her. His dark green eyes were flashing with intensity, shining with something Sharra couldn't quite put her finger on. She couldn't even focus on that right now anyway; she was too busy trying to keep her eyes from raking down Kruger's gloriously naked body.

Kruger was smirking as he asked, "And how are we feeling today?"

Sharra scowled defiantly up at him. "Fuck you."

Growling, Kruger moved so fast to kneel in front of her that it made her dizzy. "I'd watch what you say around me, young bokkie. Next time I may just take you up on that offer."

"It wasn't an offer." Against her will, her eyes unintentionally fell to the dangling organ between his legs. To her surprised fascination, it lengthened beneath her gaze, gaining several inches it hadn't had before.

Kruger's voice speaking abruptly startled Sharra out of her trance. "You sure you're not offering, bokkie? Cause you sure seem...intrigued enough."

Cheeks flaming red in embarrassment, Sharra forced herself to her feet and headed for the door. She wanted to say something in response, but she couldn't come up with a ready retort, so she continued on to the kitchen, where ibuprofen and coffee were calling her name.

* * *

Max shuddered as he contemplated what he was going to have to do. They'd spent the majority of the last day scouring the outlying areas around LA and had trained several camouflaged drone cameras on the scattered cement buildings, instinctively knowing that the mercenaries who'd attacked Max and killed Julio lived out in those abandoned neighborhoods somewhere. Max and Spyder were positive Sharra was being held there with them.

The plan was to scout out each building and any underground weapons complexes there may be one by one, killing anyone and everyone who would get in their way. Max wasn't thrilled about killing innocent people - well, innocent in regards to the way **he** saw them at least - but if it got him to his sister...

Sharra was all that mattered.

"She's a fighter, Max. You know she's going to be just fine."

Max looked up as Frey sat down next to him, holding out a glass of Jack and root beer to him. Sweet Frey; she always knew how to make him feel even marginally better. But then again, aside from Sharra, no one knew him as well as Frey did.

"Thanks." Max accepted the drink, gulped it down in one swallow, and then placed it on the coffee table in front of them. He sighed and ran weary hands down his haggard, tired face.

"Have you gotten any sleep at all in the last few days, Max?" Frey asked as she rubbed her hand up and down his back in a gesture of comfort.

"I can't sleep while Sharra is in danger." Max was thoughtfully quiet for almost two full minutes. "I'm supposed to be the one protecting her, Frey. I'm all she's got. I failed her. Those fucking...brutes got her because I didn't take her along with me to see Spyder. Whatever happens to her while she's a captive is my responsibility."

"Max." Frey ran her right hand up against his temple and then over his head. "Have faith. I do."

Such simple, unhelpful words shouldn't be so comforting or reassuring, but coming out of Frey's mouth, it was.

"Oh Max." Frey pulled him against her, cradling his head gently against her bosom. "What am I ever going to do with you?"

Max shook his head as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Just her sheer presence comforted him and that was just one of the many things he loved about her. Maybe it was time he told her that. They'd been dancing around the issue for years, but it was time to get it all out there. No time better than the present, after all.

"I love you, Frey."

Max pulled away to gauge her reaction. Her eyes were watery with untold emotion and a small smile pulled at the corners of her lips.

"Oh Max," she rasped, hand stroking the side of his face. "I love you too."

Relief spread through Max like ice cream melting on a hot sunny sidewalk. His heart pounded as he cupped Frey's face in both hands, pulling her forward. He hesitated half a second before bringing their mouths together in a sensual mating dance that left both of them trembling with desire.

"I need you, Max," Frey whispered, standing to her feet. She grabbed his hand and led him to her bedroom just a few feet away.

Max followed without a word.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sorry about the delayed update. Sometimes my mind just...fizzles. I know where I want the story to go, but I'm not sure how to put it down in words. Hopefully I'll finish up the next chapter and have it up sooner.**

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Kruger glanced around the slim pickings the Bush Shack had to offer with disdain, scowling in annoyance. The few women who hadn't already been claimed for the hour didn't exactly appeal to him. Most of them were far too skinny - bordering on anorexic - for him - Kruger liked his women with at least a _little _meat on their bodies - and the rest were just plain fokken ugly. Even shoving their faces into pillows wouldn't help them; or him, for that matter.

Groaning, Kruger grabbed up the arm of the nearest girl - a leggy blonde whose ribs poked out through her skin - and hauled her to the nearest available room. He chucked her onto the raggedy queen-sized bed and ordered her to flip over while he started to undo his belt. When she did so, he acknowledged silently the fact she at least had an ass lush and firm enough to make up for the rest of her body.

Undoing his pants, Kruger closed his eyes and pushed into the whore beneath him. He sneered at the loose flesh around him, disgusted with himself and with the woman as well. If he concentrated hard enough, maybe he could push the woman - and with great difficulty even the innocent, beautiful Sharra - out of his mind as he started thrusting viciously. Instead, he pictured in his mind's eye the woman he'd been lusting after for nearly four decades, but even in his fantasies Delacourt was bitching about his 'not doing it correctly. ' Nothing he ever did ever seemed to be done correctly and Kruger had half a mind to snap the little whore's neck in place of Delacourt.

He controlled the impulse and just finished what he'd come here for in a rapid, timely manner. Once he was done, he pulled out of the hideous chot and got to his feet. He tossed a couple of cash bills - rare to see these days - at her, adjusted his pants, and then stormed out of the room and then out of the building completely.

The sunlight warmed his skin as Kruger pulled his cloak up over his head reluctantly. Sometimes he hated having to constantly walk around the city incognito, but it was a requirement of the job he'd accepted of being a sleeper agent instead of being put down like a wild dog, as were many other things that Kruger found to be fokken pointless.

The receiver on Kruger's wrist beeped shrilly and he ducked into the nearby alleyway to glance down at it just as a message from Delacourt popped on screen.

'BRING THE PRISONER TO CCB HEADQUARTERS IN SICILY AT 0900 HOURS. DO NOT BE LATE!'

Scowling, Kruger typed a quick affirmative response and then maneuvered himself through the filthy crowd of unwashed civilians littering the streets. The stench rolling off of them made him wrinkle his nose and curse them in his native tongue. He probably didn't smell all that much better himself, but his own stink he could deal with. These people didn't even try and their unwashed scents engulfed the whole of the city.

'_No point dwelling on kak that doesn't fokken matter,'_ Kruger grouched at himself as he jumped into his CCB-funded van, speeding off towards his house fifteen miles away.

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Kruger burst through the front door half an hour later. He ordered his boys to power up the aircraft and then headed to the back of the house to the master bedroom. He slammed the bedroom door inward, catching Sharra with her pants half off, hanging down near the tops of her knees.

"Hurry the fok up!" he growled, choosing to ignore the fact that she was half-naked. "We need to leave in five minutes."

"Where are we going?" Sharra asked as she jerked her jeans up and buttoned them.

"It's not your fokken place to ask, girlie." Kruger folded his arms over his chest as he waited impatiently for Sharra to finish up whatever it was she needed to do. When she tried to automatically fix herself up in the mirror, he growled once more and stomped forward to jerk her forward by the elbow.

"Ouch!" Sharra yanked her arm from his painful grip and pointedly clutched it to her chest. "No need to fucking manhandle me; I'm coming!"

Snarling, Kruger jerked her head back by the hair to glare fiercely into her pretty blue eyes. "You don't fokken talk to me like that, you hear? I've been pretty damn lenient with you so far, but don't think that'll last if you keep talking to me so disrespectfully."

Sharra whimpered as she stared up at him. She'd never seen him looking so ferocious before and it frightened her. She wondered what she'd done to set him off. Whatever it was, she prayed fervently that she never did it again. Kruger was absolutely fucking terrifying and she'd best try to stay on his good side - well, his less domineering side at any rate - as best as she could.

But there was also something...sexy about his anger, about the way it rolled off of him in erotic waves. His eyes were pure black, his nostrils flared wildly, and his lips were parted as he huffed like a bull ready to attack. Power emanated from his body and showered her in unexpected and highly undesirable lust.

"What's wrong with you?" Kruger demanded, shaking her roughly. She was just staring up at him unblinkingly and it was almost - just almost - creeping him out.

Kruger's question didn't register with Sharra; it was just white noise in her head as she stared dazedly at Kruger's mouth. It was turned down in a frown, but it was fascinating her for reasons she couldn't explain. Heat rushed through her body in rapid bursts, her pulse starting up an unsynchronized beat of its own in several areas of her body. She'd never felt this way before - so feverish and needy, like a cat in heat. And it had come upon her so suddenly too. Had he secreted some sort of invisible arousal mist into the air or something?

He was speaking again, spittle flying out of his mouth to land on her cheek. When his grasp on her hair tightened furiously, all rational thought flew out of her head and she launched herself at the seething mercenary, lips attacking his with an intensity she never knew she possessed.

Kruger stumbled back at the unexpectedness of the sudden full weight thrown against his body. He was stunned at this sudden turn of events, but as soon as her tongue flicked at his bottom lip, he groaned into her mouth and hauled her closer. His own lips parted to allow his tongue entrance to her open welcoming mouth. She squealed around the violent thrusting in her mouth when his large hands dropped to her backside and squeezed.

Sharra kissed him back just as aggressively, hands gripping Kruger's biceps tightly as she pushed herself up on the balls of her feet to gain better leverage. The lower half of her body rubbed against him and then she felt him - hot and hard - pressing against the bottom of her stomach. She moaned without being aware of it and the effect it had on Kruger's senses was nearly crippling.

Kruger abruptly pulled back to hold her at arm's length. "Of all the times you could have fokken done this, you choose **now**." Shaking his head, he dragged her out of the room and then out of the house just as the boys touched down in front. He shoved Sharra up the lowered platform and then followed after her, cursing himself for a fool the entire way. He was barely inside the vehicle when it lurched forward with a jerk. He managed to grab hold of the hand hold above his head, but across from him, Sharra toppled right to the floor.

Kruger shook his head. "Sit yourself down," he ordered her as she struggled up to her feet. "And strap yourself in."

Glaring at him - embarrassed now at the way she'd brazenly thrown herself at the man mere minutes before - Sharra followed his command and sat down in the nearest chair, buckling up with haste. She settled back in the seat and kept her gaze focused on the gray floor as they traveled speedily through the air.

It took them just over an hour to reach CCB headquarters - one of many that were stationed all over the planet and Delacourt's personal favorite location - and they eased gently down onto the landing pad just in back of the small entrance building. It was a small, shed-sized metal box with a hot tin roof that could, at best, squeeze in three small adults into the confined space inside. It was merely a landmark to identify the location of the CCB's Italian compound for the mercenaries and other various CCB personnel who worked on Earth to locate on their GPS. The actual compound was located beneath the soil under their feet to prevent the risk of attack or infections spread by rampant, disease-riddled rodents.

The four of them approached the small - nearly undetectable - lump of soil near the shed that concealed a small, tube-shaped transporter dug deeply down into the ground. After Drake double-checked the perimeters and assured him that there were no read-outs of any body heat other than their own, Kruger swept away the loose dirt from the entrance. He ordered his men to keep an eye on the prisoner and then he leapt into the transporter and promptly disappeared from sight.

Sharra gaped at the sheer thought of how much money must have gone into this compound alone. Money that could very easily have been used to heal, feed, and clothe the billions of underprivileged people on the planet; money that could have had a medbay available in every corner of every city in every country in the world. Disgust trickled through her at the evidence of the greedy selfishness of those who lived up on the torus. Now she second-guessed her dreams to live up there if it just transformed a person into a cold, emotionless robot.

Crowe's radio comm beeped seconds before Kruger's voice crackled through the air. "Send the girl down, Crowe, and then you and Drakey get back to the ship. I hate to leave my girl unprotected."

"All right, girlie, come along." Crowe gently but firmly pulled Sharra forward by the elbow.

"I just...jump in?" she asked, lower lip tucked between her teeth.

"Or we can push ya in," Drake offered, grin nearly splitting his face in half, revealing slightly yellowed teeth from years of smoking.

"Be nice, Drakey," Crowe warned him with a small smile of his own. "Your fat, stupid ass would be dead if it weren't for her." He shook his head. "Still can't believe your dumb ass let that poes get the better of ya."

Drake scowled at the insult, but didn't reply until Sharra had cautiously stepped into the transporter, screaming when she fell down the vertical plastic tube, falling so fast her head swam.

She abruptly hit the ground without warning about fifty feet down and went stumbling to her hands and knees ungracefully. She scraped her skin on all extremities and swore heavily as she pushed herself up to her feet. She glanced around, momentarily confused, until her eyes fell on the hulking form of Kruger standing at the other end of the metallic room.

"Pick up the speed," Kruger groused from where he stood next to the sliding aluminum door that led to the rest of the compound. "We haven't got all fokken day."

"Yes. Can't keep your precious bitch waiting," Sharra grumbled before she had time to think about what she was about to say. If she had, she wouldn't have made such a suicidal mistake.

Kruger's eyes darkened to the point of pure ebony and his facial features contorted into an expression so ferocious she was afraid she'd start pissing herself in fear. He stormed across the room in three long strides, gripped her by the throat, and slammed her up against the wall, her feet dangling just inches off the floor.

"Insult the woman who writes out my checks again and I don't give a fuck what my fokken orders are, I'll snap your neck like a twig; got that?"

Sharra nodded and he lowered her to the ground. Kruger growled low in his throat and she scampered to the door ahead of him, certain then that she had completely lost her mind earlier in the afternoon. He was not a man any sane, sober woman would ever want.

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**Not quite sure how satisified I am with this chapter, at least at the beginning. But as long as it's relatively in the realm of believability...**

**Also, when I picture Kruger holding onto the hand hold, it's the image of when he was doing that in the movie as they were traveling up to Elysium. In my opinion, one of his sexiest poses.**


End file.
